Something Sweet
by messyfeathers
Summary: Cecil has his bad days, but thankfully Carlos has a few highly scientific remedies for that (after all, prepared is the fourth thing a scientist is!) [Super fluffy Cecilos sick!fic]


_written for a request of Cecil dealing with chronic Lyme Disease (which sort of makes this a sequel-ish to my other ficlet - Asymmetric!)  
Commonplace Books owns Night Vale. I just write cute things about it!_

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"Do you want to stay the night?" Carlos murmurs over the dissonant static of the ballad of Cat Ballou. Cecil had grown increasingly sleepy through the movie; by the credits he's nearly asleep on the scientist's chest. Carlos presses a gentle kiss to the top of his head to wake him enough for an answer. "Want to stay over?" he repeats when Cecil blinks up blearily at him.

With a sigh, Cecil pushes himself up to a sitting position. "I have work in the morning," he yawns. "I'm recording some new ad segments for.." he removes his glasses to rub at his eyes and blinks several times before replacing the frames "for somebody. I don't remember who. I'm probably not supposed to remember who," he mumbles, less to Carlos and more as a reminder. He pauses before forcing himself up from the sofa with a wince. Carlos can read the signs of a Bad Day in the stiff steps and the stifled sounds that accompany the first few movements after Cecil stands up.

"You know," Carlos begins in his most persuasive tones. "Scientifically speaking, the most efficient course of action would be to stay the night." Cecil pauses in the middle of folding a crochet afghan and casts a sly look at his boyfriend. "I'll clean up the dishes, and you could take a nice hot shower tonight," Carlos continues, lifting the blanket from Cecil's grasp and finishing the folding. "It might feel nice on your joints, and you'll be ready for tomorrow even earlier. It's efficient, and efficient is the sixth thing a scientist is!"

"Well, I suppose I can't argue with science," Cecil consents with a laugh.

Carlos takes his time washing up the dishes from supper, not because the chore takes any considerable amount of effort, but because the kitchen shares a wall with the washroom, which allows him to hear Cecil humming last Thursday's weather broadcast dreadfully off-key. He waits until the water shuts off to begin the rest of the bedtime preparations. By the time the scientist reaches the bedroom, a small box of supplies in one hand, Cecil is carefully lowering himself onto the edge of the bed, his expression twisted into a grimace. Before his boyfriend can fully settle in against the pillows, Carlos removes a cold compress from the box and carefully tucks it between Cecil's hips and the mattress.

"Something cold for the swelling," he narrates, then gently presses a steaming mug of chamomile into Cecil's hands, "and something warm for the chills."

"My wonderful Carlos, you're always so thoughtful," Cecil beams up at him. Carlos mirrors the expression as he crosses to the other side of the bed and climbs in. The routine isn't done yet; Carlos reaches to the top drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a small bottle of oil. He squeezes a drop to his hands and works it carefully through the damp tangles of Cecil's hair. "Mm, lavender," Cecil murmurs contentedly between sips of tea.

"It's the secret to perfect hair you know," Carlos explains, brushing the oils to the ends of each strand, "and it's something soothing to help you sleep." Sometimes Carlos thinks he enjoys the routine even more than Cecil does. It's relaxing for both of them, and satisfying for him to at least give his boyfriend a nice end to an otherwise painful and difficult day.

"You always take such good care of me. Thank you for that," Cecil says softly after finishing the tea and placing the empty mug on the floor beside the bed.

"Not quite done yet," Carlos reminds him as he reaches for the last item in the box. He shakes a capsule from the medicine bottle. "Something for the pain, and the most important part of all-" he leans over and presses a kiss to Cecil's cheek, "something sweet to help it down. You know," he adds as he switches out the light and pulls the blankets up around them, "scientifically speaking, kisses can be quite effective at relieving pain. Touch can send a competing sensory signal to override pain receptors in the brain." He plants a kiss to Cecil's forehead. "So theoretically, if I were to kiss you multiple times in multiple places," a soft pair of kisses to closed eyelids "it would greatly expedite the healing process."

"Oh really now?" Cecil asks with a drowsy chuckle that works its way into a yawn.

"Trust me, I'm a scientist," Carlos reassures him with a fluttery kiss to the tip of his nose.

"Well I can't very well argue with science," Cecil agrees, with one last very sweet kiss goodnight.

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 _notes: as someone who deals daily with chronic pain, I find it pretty neat that we have a protagonist who canonically does too._ _if you have any requests for cute ficlets send them my way at montressorspacep0rt!_


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